


Faces we know, things we don't

by Crab_Lad



Series: Writers Month Good Omens [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Evil Crowley, I mean, but its still a dark au, dark au, nothing reall bad happens, this is a whole lot of YIKES folks, uhhh possessed crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crab_Lad/pseuds/Crab_Lad
Summary: Dark au for day 10 :))





	Faces we know, things we don't

**Author's Note:**

> hhh i hate this im sorry

t was barely even a month after the Apocalypse that failed when Aziraphale noticed the spacey expressions, the odd looks. They would be eating at the Ritz, he would ramble on and on, but Crowley would seem off in a different world. When they left, or when he was pulled out, he would look tired. 

A week after the first noticeable instance, he would catch the demon’s grins turning dark, possessive, for a moment. Feral, in a way he’d only seen on other demons but not Crowley. They would go just as fast as they came. 

He didn’t understand what was happening, but he was sure of one thing, whatever it was he would be there to help Crowley. 

The demon’s sunglasses became a more frequent occurrence even when they were together. Whenever he would reach up to take them off, Crowley would respond with a hiss or a growl. A warning. And so those brilliant golden eyes became hidden to him. 

Visits lessened, and when he would call, Crowley would come up with an excuse not to show up.

“I’m feeling under the weather, sorry, angel.” 

“uh yeah, got some business to take care of.”

“Just can’t make it today, Aziraphale. Stop calling.”

Another month passed. He didn’t see or hear from Crowley. Aziraphale worried himself sick wondering if it was something he had done, if there was something he could fix.

It was in the middle of one these worry spells did he hear the bell ring. 

Without even looking back, he raised his voice, “Shop’s closed. Sorry!” 

Yet footsteps came closer still, and just as he turned around, he found himself shoved, roughly, against the wall. 

It wasn’t the fast but gentle way Crowley had done that time at the convent. This was a rough, bruising hold. 

He let out a surprised gasp, trying to wrestle against Crowley’s hold. 

“My dear boy, I do think-”

“Shut it.” 

Crowley let out a snarl, reaching up to take off his glasses. Those eyes Aziraphale loved so much, were tarnished, a deeper color one he would almost describe as red orange. His easy grin was something dangerous. Something malicious. The look, his expression, was not his. 

“My dear-” Aziraphale tried again.

Crowley lifted a finger to his mouth, shushing him. 

“No no, don’t speak. You don’t speak unless I say.”

Realizing that this wasn’t his Crowley, this wasn’t the demon who he loved and who loved him dearly, Aziraphale lashed out with his powers hoping to fight back. 

It did nothing more than slightly sear the entities hand, causing it to hiss and pull back. It looked back at him disapprovingly. 

“My, aren’t we disobedient. Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough.”

Shivering, shuttering in fear against the wall, Aziraphale was helpless was what ever had taken over his love caressed his cheek.

It grinned wickedly, “My Pet.”

**Author's Note:**

> the next one will be this but from Crowley's perspective  
follow me on tumblr @goodalexomens


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